Not thoughts unsaid, but revamped to kill.
If I say it now, deaf ears are turned away.
I need to be heard, need to be full again.
Left for the thrill, left for decay.
Enough to last a lifetime, if not to be cut short.
By the things said to a closed door, my own deaf ear.
Last time was the first, many more times in store.
If you care not, let me hear it.
I know who I don't care to, and the last bit may end it all.
Say it to kill, revamped once again.
The knife cuts not half as it did. My knife is my bane.
If you near, hear a familiar chord, you've got fun ahead.
If I'm listening, am I a voice in my own head?
There's some poetry I wrote
smile